Kimaris was right; the path down to the hot springs was terrifying, but I did my best not to let it show.
Back at the cliffside near the sea, a narrow stairway led us down into a crevice. Waves crashed far below, roaring as they echoed off the rock, foam churning in the water like the mouth of a rabid beast. The stairway wasn’t so bad at first, with the smooth black stone on either side. But then the crevice widened, and the stairway clung only to one side of the sheer rock. There was no boundary, not even a rope. We edged our way along the steep stairs, with stone on one side and a straight drop to the sea on the other.
Callum wasn’t bothered in the least. He led the way, holding my hand, glancing back at me occasionally and snickering.
“Do you think I would let you fall?” he said.
Keeping my eyes fixed on him so I wouldn’t mistakenly glance at the massive drop beside me, I said, “No. But maybe we could have teleported there?”
He chuckled again, squeezing my hand. “We could have. But I enjoy the walk.”
Of course he did.
Luckily, that demonic liquor was still buzzing in my veins, numbing most of my fear. I’d never drank much even in the human world, because my stomach was too sensitive for it. But whatever had been in the drink Callum ordered for me was delicious. Fruity and herbaceous, with a fiery burn I could still feel in my chest.
It was surreal to see so many other demons. Walking through the streets of the High City, seeing such a variety of wings, claws, horns, and fangs all around me, felt like walking through a dream. Even the humans here looked rather demonic. Their eyes were preternaturally bright, their faces youthful, their movements so relaxed they were almost feline.
Everything I’d once believed about Hell was wrong. I could have a future here. An eternity.
If the Deep One didn’t consume me first.
Shaking my head to cast off those negative thoughts, I focused on the path ahead. The stairway finally ended, and we stepped onto a flat section of rock jutting from the cliff face. Glowing orbs were suspended from thin silver wires over the space, seeming to float in mid-air. A hammock was hung between two craggy crystal columns, and within it lay a demon who lazily raised his hand to wave at us but didn’t bother to open his eyes.
That is, until his nostrils flared and he sniffed. Then his eyes flew open, golden irises darting to me with alarm.
“Damned mother of Bael!” he exclaimed. “That’s quite a scent you have, witch. Fuckin’ scared me. Thought I was about to have my sigil stolen.” He stretched as he sat up, long legs dangling from either side of the hammock. It was difficult to notice at first because of the extent of his tattoos, but he was entirely naked. His eyes settled on Callum, staring at him for a long moment before he inclined his head. “Welcome to the springs, dux. Is there anything I can offer you?”
“Are any of the caverns unoccupied?” Callum said. For the first time, I noticed there was a cave opening in the rock, the path lit with more of those glowing orbs.
The demon nodded. “There should be a large pool unoccupied near the back. Just keep walking to the right, look for the sapphire stones. Libations are to the left.” His eyes kept sliding curiously between Callum and I, as if there was a question he wished to ask but didn’t dare. Slowly, he laid back down. “If you need anything, I’ll be here all night. Name’s Silas.”
As soon as we passed into the tunnel, the air turned damp and warm. Humidity dripped from the sleek stones as we made our way deeper into the mountain. There were voices ahead, faint but boisterous, muffled by the distance. The scent of wet rock permeated the atmosphere, but there were also whiffs of marijuana, lemongrass, and something sweet, like sugar on the back of my tongue.
“He called you dux,” I said, watching Callum curiously. “It’s Latin, isn’t it?”
“More or less,” he said. “It’s an honorific. The equivalent of Master or Captain.”
“Did he know you? From before?”
Callum shook his head. “He’s young. Likely wasn’t even alive when I last lived in Hell. But certain demonic traits — wings and horns, for example — don’t manifest until we’re quite old.”
Giving him a teasing look, I said, “So what he’s really doing is calling you a senior citizen.”
He laughed, then tucked me against his side and squeezed my ass. “Mm, keep sassing me, darling, and see what happens. There are plenty of demons around who would love to see a witch getting spanked.”
Slapping his chest in mock offense, I said, “You wouldn’t dare! Is that any way to treat your Mistress?”
“It certainly is, when my Mistress misbehaves. Besides, punishing you would inspire you to do the same to me later.”
The tunnel opened, and I would have stopped in my tracks if it weren’t for Callum’s arm around me. The cavern we entered was massive, rising into a tall peaked ceiling covered in stalactites. All around were hot spring pools. Clouds of steam rose into the air, strong with the scent of minerals and the vague aroma of salt. The stones beneath my bare feet were warm, covered with a thin layer of water that made my footsteps splash as we kept walking.
All around the cavern — sprouting from the ceiling, the walls, the grounds — were gigantic crystal structures. Most of them were pale and faintly cloudy, like shards of ice, while others were tinted violet, pink, or blue. Paths had been cleared between them to lead to the various pools, but the size and thickness of the clusters allowed each hot spring to have a bit of privacy, partially sheltering them from view.
Dozens of demons bathed in the pools or lay on the rocks beside them. Sounds of laughter and ecstasy drifted through the air. Callum led me deeper into the caverns, following a winding path to the right that sloped upward and into a smaller chamber.
The crystals that grew here were clear at their base, but their sharp tips were vibrant blue. There was a subtle glow within them that lit the cave, bathing it in cool, soothing light. The pool was large, surrounded by smooth stone that practically invited one to stretch their body out and rest.
“We’ll have the cavern to ourselves,” Callum said, walking to the other side of the pool as I stood looking around in wonder. “The shared pools are enjoyable, but I’d much rather have you to myself.”
As usual, Callum wasn’t wearing much. Only loose trousers of soft silky black material, which he quickly discarded. In the faint light, he looked ethereal. Skin tinted blue by the crystals surrounding him, the hollows of his eyes shrouded in darkness. Since he’d begun showing his tattoos again and wearing his piercings, I found it impossible not to stare. He’d always been beautiful, but to see him now was like looking at a classical masterpiece encrusted with gold and jewels.
“This was always one of my favorite places in the High City,” he said. There were shelves carved into the stone wall, and he traced his fingers over the myriad of oddly shaped bottles upon them, with their brightly colored glass. “Whether I wanted company, or to be alone. I could come here and not have to think about the rest of the world for a while.”
He selected a glass jar and unscrewed the lid, a pungent aroma emerging when he broke the seal. There was a variety of stone pipes hung on little hooks beside the jar, and he selected one that he filled with the marijuana-like herb. He sat at the edge of the pool, allowing his legs to dangle into the water.
“Go on, my love,” he said. “Get rid of those clothes.”
I was happy to do so. The air was refreshing on my naked skin and I waded into the pool up to my waist, smiling at the pleasurable warmth.
“The water here is said to have healing capabilities,” he said, as I sank even deeper and allowed the water to come up to my shoulders. My feet could still touch the ground, but if I kept walking to the far end of the pool, the bottom was too deep to see. “Warriors often came here after training, to ease their sore muscles, to speed up the healing of wounds. Light?”
He held out the pipe, and I snapped my fingers to summon a little flame that I held close to the herb. He breathed in, held it a moment, then leaned back and closed his eyes as he exhaled, a little shiver going over his skin.
He slipped into the water beside me. He held the pipe to my lips so I could smoke and cradled me as I coughed on the exhale, my inexperienced lungs struggling to take it in.
My limbs floated to the surface as he carried me into deeper water. I could have slept there in his arms, perfectly safe and without fear.
That was the greatest gift he’d given me. A fearless existence. Freedom from the constant mind-numbing anxiety of my former life. It didn’t mean I was never afraid. It didn’t mean that terror never gripped me, or worry never plagued me. But those things didn’t command me anymore, they didn’t control me.
His wings tread the water, keeping us buoyant. We passed the pipe back and forth, lost in the physical sensations without any need for conversation.
Then, keeping his voice low as he spoke close to my ear, he said, “I have something to ask of you.”
Turning to him, chest to chest, I looped my arms around his neck and said, “Anything you wish.”
He seemed both larger than life and suddenly so small. The blue light tinted his eyes, the water reflected in their obsidian pools.
“Yesterday, I made the choice to wear my metal again. To remember the joy of those I lost…and the pain.” His fingers traced over my cheek. “But there’s a mark missing, and I cannot go to war without it.”
My heart stopped. But as he kept speaking, it took off pounding again, a drum beat in my chest.
“I want your mark, Everly. I want it given by your hands.”
I stared at him for so long, at a loss for words. The jewelry adorning him carried such painful memories; I knew how hard it must have been for him to choose to wear them again.
But to accept a new mark after so long was on another level entirely.
His expression was vulnerable, unguarded. There was raw honesty in his voice as he said, “I swore to myself I would never accept a mark again. But that was when I also believed I would never love again. You proved me wrong on both counts.”
He cradled my face and pressed his forehead against mine. That closeness said more than his words ever could.
“I’m terrified of losing you every second of every day,” he said, his voice ragged. “I think of the task you have ahead and I want to rage. I want to take that burden from your shoulders and carry it alone. But I’m not enough without you. With or without a piercing from you, you’ve left your mark on me. I adore you endlessly.” He gripped me, sucking in his breath like it physically pained him to not be able to have me closer.
“I’ll mark you,” I said. He made a soft sound — a laugh, or a sigh of relief, I wasn’t entirely sure. “But you’ll have to tell me how.”
He grinned as he rose from the water. It dripped from him, streaking over his muscular form, and my breath caught as I admired every naked inch of him. “Gladly. Don’t be nervous; we’ll take our time. Now come with me. There’s bound to be a jeweler here somewhere.”
